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Steven's Branches

A short story.

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Steven's Branches
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“I love the forest. Won’t you come with me just this one time?”

Steven’s mother rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile at the question that she had been asked by her son time after time.

“Steven,” she reached over and cupped his cheek adoringly, “you know that I’m too old to spend even just one night in the forest with you.”

“But nature will protect you!” He said in a singsong voice, “and so will I! You don’t think I’d ever let you get hurt, do you?”

She smiled, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Steven. You know I’d love to.”

Steven sighed, offered a sympathetic smile, and kissed his mother on the cheek.

“Well, I must be on my way, since you insist on spending the night surrounded by bricks rather than green leaves and soft moss. Have a nice night, mother.” He hugged the old woman, and she squeezed him back tightly.

“Be safe.”

A few hours later, Steven was in the depths of the forest, surrounded by scents of grass, dirt, and animal fur.

It was growing darker by the minute, and Steven was dozing off on a small patch of grass he had designated as his makeshift bed for the night. He was dressed warmly and had draped a thin blanket over himself. He lay on his side, curled up in a tight ball, admiring the view he had of several tall trees with thick branches and swaying leaves.

“Oh, how I envy you, trees. You have the privilege of living in the forest for all of your lives and sheltering all kinds of critters that you love.” Steven smiled as a squirrel scurried up the side of the tree right on cue. With that image in mind, Steven drifted off into sleep, dreaming of gusty winds blowing dirt over him and roots lacing his feet to the ground. In his dream he felt at peace. He had never before felt such a strong connection to the nature surrounding him.

When he awoke, he was upset that everything he had seen and felt was all just a dream. He sat up reluctantly, but he soon noticed that his body felt unnaturally stiff. He shrugged the feeling off, concluding that such a thing was normal after sleeping on the forest floor all night. He stood, but when he did, he felt as though he was stuck in quicksand. His feet were too heavy to move. He looked down to assess what the problem was and found that his feet were rooted to the ground.

At first he felt incomprehensible fear, for he surely couldn’t survive very long in the forest all alone, but within the next few moments, his dream suddenly came rushing back to him. He realized that the connection with nature that he had so strongly felt was still there, and was still thriving.

He rejoiced, raising his arms to the sky and allowing nature to consume him. Slowly, he felt himself becoming wood, starting from where the roots tangled around his feet and spreading up to his ankles, along his shins, thighs, and across his torso. His arms became strong, sturdy branches, his hair bushy green leaves. He was no longer man, but he felt more alive than he had ever been when he had two arms and two legs.

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